The Valreation Affair
by Leedan blu
Summary: Old School fun
1. Chapter 1

The Valreation Affair Chapter 1

"Captain's Log, Star date 2273. 'The Enterprise is in pursuit of a Klingon Battle Cruiser which is fleeing after a raid on Science station 302 located on Federation outpost Gamma 7. The station suffered numerous causalities in what can only be described as a cowardly and unprovoked attack by the Klingons."

On the bridge of the Starship Enterprise, Kirk snapped off his log recorder.

"Captain," Uhura said, turning to Kirk, "I have the director of outpost Gamma 7 requesting contact."

"Put it through, lieutenant," he said, then added, "On the screen."

All eyes on the bridge turned to the large viewing screen. The director's image swam into view. Uhura gave a small gasp as the image clarified and showed the carnage and destruction surrounding the director. _Good, _Kirk thought_. let the crew see first hand what we are up against._

"How are you holding out, Director?" Kirk asked.

"Approximately 50 dead and about the same number wounded...structurally we are essentially... intact - thanks to you and your ship, Captain."

Kirk suppressed a grimace as he studied the man before him, or at least the broken shell of what remained of him. Not 3 hours before, Kirk had stood with him as the director led the officers of the Enterprise on a tour of the station. Quiet and reserved, he was nonetheless proud to show off his station, which was one of the highest rated in the Federation.

"A shining example to the other colonies,'" Kirk recalled complimenting him. A fact that had not escaped the Klingons. Now the director sat hunched over, partly charred, every breath he took laboured. Witness to a quarter of his life's work razed before his very eyes.

"Hold your thanks for now, Director," Kirk said. "We...regret we could not have returned sooner."

The Enterprise had just completed a 2-day mandatory rest period on Gamma 7; supplies and new personnel had been shuttled aboard and the Enterprise had only been away two hours when the distress call came alerting them of the Klingon attack.

_Someone on board that Klingon vessel jumped the gun_, Kirk thought. A critical mistake he intended to make them pay dearly for.

"Captain," the director murmured, "I am not at heart a...vengeful man."

"Understood, Director. Our rescue personnel and supplies have already been dispatched. Look to yourself and your people; the Klingons will be dealt with. You have my word."

The director made no response to signify that he had heard the words. Kirk allowed a few more seconds to pass and was preparing to sign off when the director lifted his head.

"I can't think of anyone else I would trust more than you, Captain…"

Kirk gave a modest nod of his head in acknowledgement. "Take care, Director. Kirk out."

Kirk looked towards the view screen, mentally trying to will the Klingon ship into sight among the hundreds of stars now filling the screen.

"Reports!" he said abruptly. "Mr. Sulu?"

"Maintaining warp 8; we are gaining on them, Captain. I estimate visual contact in 2 minutes."

"Very good. Mr. Chekov?"

"Phaser banks and Photon torpedoes charged and fully operational, Captain. Shields set at maximum."

"Thank you, Mr. Chekov." Kirk turned to the man seated in the bridge engineering control section: Mr. Sharp, Scott's right-hand man. "Mr. Sharp?"

"All systems including warp and impulse drive showing optimum capacity, Captain."

Kirk nodded and swiveled towards his first officer. "Mr. Spock?"

"Captain!" Uhura interrupted. "Excuse me, Mr. Spock, but I have a code 47 sub space communique from the Admiralty."

Kirk suppressed a grimace. Code 47 communications were the highest priority messages sent from Starfleet, meant only for the Captain's eyes and the ranking second-in-command on the ship. It was hardly a surprise for Kirk, but unwelcome all the same. He motioned quickly for Uhura to put it through on his private view screen.

He felt the presence next to him before he even saw him. _Of course Spock would be aware of the proper protocols regarding the communique._ "Mr. Spock, you—"

" I would also ask for the same trust as the Director showed in you, Captain."

Kirk stared at him for a moment then nodded his consent. Together they watched as the message quickly spilled onto the small viewing screen. Kirk merely grunted as he read the terse note, exactly as he predicted: _Enterprise to abort any and all engagement with enemy vessel. Hold position until additional reinforcements arrive._

Logistically and strategically, it made perfect sense. Kirk turned to Spock who spoke first.

"Uncharacteristically obtuse, Captain, especially coming from the Admiralty. I shall need more time to ponder its exact meaning."

Kirk smiled inwardly but exuded a stern outward appearance. "I concur, Spock. Take all the time you need."

He moved back into his chair and Spock returned to his station. Kirk signaled for Uhura to erase the communique.

"Klingon Battle Cruiser now visible, Captain!" Sulu could not hide the anticipation in his voice.

"Very well, Mr. Sulu," Kirk said as he sank deeper into his chair. "Mr. Chekov, prep—" Suddenly, the bridge lights dimmed and a violent shaking rocked the Enterprise.

"Sensors reporting full phaser barrage from enemy vessel, Captain." Spock's voice boomed across from his station.

"All stations reports." Kirk signalled to Uhura.

She paused, monitoring all inter-ship communications. "All stations report minimal damage, Captain."

Kirk turned back to the main viewing screen. "Return fire, Mr. Chekhov."

The bridge crew each felt a subtle hum run through their consoles as Chekhov unloaded a phaser blast at the Klingon ship.

"Direct hit, Captain," Spock reported. A second later he turned from his screen. "No significant damage."

Again, the lights dimmed and Kirk was nearly thrown from his chair. Uhura did not wait for a command. "Stations 3,7 and 9 all reporting damage, Captain. Mid level 11 reports breach on outer hull."

"Mr. Sharp?" said Kirk.

The engineering assistant responded, slightly flustered: "Captain, the two forward shields are down to 40% capacity and the rest...I cannot read." Sharp's hands were flying across his console. "Some malfunction in the system, Captain, I'll try to have it fixed momentarily."

"If you please, Mr. Sharp," Kirk said. "Mr. Chekhov, return fire."

This time, as the phasers were released, the bridge engineering console exploded into a mini electrical fireworks display. Mr. Sharp was flung backwards from his chair. He lay unconscious at Kirk's feet, faint wisps of smoke rising eerily from his body. Kirk rushed over to him and flipped him onto his back. Sharp's face had gone shockingly pale but Kirk felt certain he could detect a faint heartbeat. Kirk motioned to a nearby yeoman to begin first aid then rushed back to his chair.

"Lieutenant, have engineering send up a replacement immediately and Dr. McCoy report to the bridge."

Kirk noticed the quick second glance Uhura gave him at the order in which the commands were given. _Now is not the time to explain the niceties of executive decisions,_ he thought.

"Sensors detect no damage to Klingon vessel Captain," Spock reported, then added: "Nelson's Bane."

_Unnecessary, Mr. Spock,_ Kirk thought to himself. He was well aware that Nelson's Bane referred to the timeless naval theory that suggested that any projectile fired from a pursuing vessel would have diminishing returns as opposed to those fired by the vessel fleeing which have increased returns. An inconvenient but manageable problem for the legendary Earth seafarer Lord Horatio Nelson when ships reached top speeds of 15 knots, but an entirely different scenario when spacecraft are traveling at warp 6. The theory went by many names over the centuries but in Kirks and Spock's time at the Academy, some wit dubbed it Nelson's Bane and the name had endured.

"Mr. Chekhov," Kirk said, "plot a flanking course around the Klingon ship. Keep us out of range of their weapons."

"Aye aye, Captain." Chekhov quickly made the calculations. "Course...is...now…set and locked in, Captain!"

"Mr. Sulu, increase speed to warp eight…engage."

Kirk settled deeper into his chair, the familiar vibration as the ship's engines pushed to near maximum calmed his impatience.

_Soon,_ he thought to himself. _Soon._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Chief Medical Officer Leonard McCoy entered the bridge at a swift clip, made instant eye contact with Kirk, and quickly loped towards the prone body of Mr. Sharp. Kneeling quickly, he opened his medical bag and commenced scanning Sharp's vitals.

Spock moved over from his post and stood over the kneeling doctor and his patient. "It appears," Spock said, "Mr. Sharp suffered an electrical overload transference sufficient to `bodily displace him from his post'."

McCoy lifted his head briefly. "Thank you, Mr. Spock."

"Preferred treatment," Spock continued, "generally dictates adminis—"

McCoy's head shot up and he locked eyes with the first officer, effectively cutting him off mid-sentence. McCoy held the gaze for a second longer than necessary, before returning his attention back to his patient. "Thank you, Mr. Spock."

The first officer appeared to be formulating a response, but after a brief pause, abruptly returned to his post.

Kirk sat, as he had so often done in the past, appearing relaxed in the bridge command chair. Pacing the bridge and breathing down the necks of his crew would have suited him personally but not as the Captain. Suddenly, the bridge lights dimmed and Kirk heard the warp engines droning heavily, beginning their cycle down pattern. With each small shudder of the ship, the Enterprise quickly came to a complete stop. His gaze fell on the still empty bridge engineering seat and he angrily stabbed the communication panel on his chair. "Kirk to engineering. Do you read me, Scotty?"

"Scott here, Captain." Then, anticipating Kirk's next statement, Scott continued hurriedly, "I had a man on his way to you, Captain, but with this now...I had to call him back."

Kirk was about to reply but Scott was on a roll, determined to anticipate and answer his questions before they were even asked.

"We're trying to locate the source of the engine shutdown...One moment, Captain." His voice went muffled for a moment as he consulted another crewmember, then said, "We've got it, Captain, it's definitely coming from the bridge control engineering panel. It's sending a compromised signal to the engines that caused the safety system to shut them down."

"Fine," said Kirk, finally breaking into the conversation. "I want you up here personally to fix it, Scotty. I need those engines working!"

Silence. Kirk detected a cross between a chuckle and a sigh coming from Mr. Scott before he replied: "I canna do that, Captain. The engines were shut down so rapidly if I'm not here to supervise the cooling process...Well, let's just say we'll have a lot bigger problem on our hands."

Kirk was familiar enough with the workings of warp engines to appreciate Mr. Scott's understatement.

Again, Scott chimed in before Kirk could reply. "I'll send O'Reilly up straight away, Captain."

"Thank you, Mr. Scott. Kirk out."

As soon as he signed off, a sudden memory wave washed over Kirk, sending him into near paralysis. He quickly shook it off and tapped his communication panel.

"Belay that, Mr. Scott!"

"Aye, Captain?"

"…Someone else, Scotty."

"Well-l-l-l, Captain…" There was another muffled conversation between Scott and another crewmember, then, "Captain, I've got young Mr. Kane, new recruit fresh off the science station. He say's he's certified." Another stifled voice entered the conversation, before Scott yelled, "Hush up, laddie! I can't talk to you both at once." He sighed, then resumed: "Sorry Captain. He says he's certified in bridge interior and exterior control panels." The second voice rose up again. "Top of his class," Scott finished.

"Scotty?"

"He's done everything he said he can do up to now, Captain." Scott paused, deciding. "I'll send him up. _Kane, get your arse up to the bridge strai_—"

The line went dead and Kirk mumbled to the empty connection, "Thank you Mr. Scott."

Spock crawled out from underneath the engineering control panel, evidently able to re-wire the system, which stopped the constant flow of smoke that was pouring out from it.

Despite their rather dire predicament, Kirk was able to feel a small tingle of anticipation regarding the arrival on the bridge of young Mr. Kane. The request for transfer to the Enterprise came buried among hundreds of others that passed through his desk. Many of the soldiers, scientists and assorted others of the Federation were eager to join on the Enterprise on what was likely her final mission. This particular name caught his eye. After a brief check, he confirmed to his delight that this Ensign first class Patrick Kane was indeed the son of Tom Kane, one of his best friends during his time at the academy. Even though they had not kept in touch over the ensuing years, Kirk was puzzled that Tom hadn't contacted him to pull a string or two - he certainly would have if the situations were reversed and it were his son. Kirk, Tom and Ellen - Tom's future wife and Patrick's mother, were inseparable during their time at the academy. Never the less, Kirk happily authorized the transfer to the Enterprise and was now moments away from laying eyes on the boy he would almost certainly consider a nephew.

McCoy motioned to the orderly who had just arrived onto the bridge and together they strapped Sharp onto the anti-grav gurney. Gingerly, maneuvering it in place, they stood in front of the bridge lift. The doors slid open and out bounded a young man, who in his haste, nearly fell on top of the unconscious Mr. Sharp. McCoy prepared to growl at the clumsy new recruit but after locking eyes with him, his throat closed up. The swirl of the closely cropped blond hair, the piercing hazel eyes, the nose, the chin! McCoy stood dumbfounded as the lad brushed past him with a curt apology.

Looking over from his station at the commotion, Spock laid eyes on Kane and after doing the Vulcan equivalent of a double take, returned his gaze to his view screen.

"Fascinating," he murmured under his breath.

Kirk, for his part, was...disappointed…no, surprised was more appropriate. He was expecting a younger version of Tom with his jet-black hair and gangly height. _Most definitely takes after his mother, _Kirk concluded.

The boy strode straight to the bridge controls without glancing in Kirk's direction. _Focused_, Kirk thought. Kane quickly slid under the control board and disappeared except for his black boots. Kirk turned his attention to the front screen.

"Mr. Sulu, status of the Klingon ship?"

"Sensors still tracking it, Captain. They appear to be heading towards Valreation space territory."

_Interesting. _Valreation territory was a definite 'no fly zone' for both Federation and Klingon vessels. He turned to Spock who was heading over to the engineer controls, presumably to check on Kane's progress.

Spock caught the Captain's questioning eye. He paused briefly, said, "They may assume we will not follow them."

Kirk nodded in agreement, but a misjudgment on the Klingon's part.

Spock leaned forward and spoke into the opening of the bridge controls. "Ensign, what is the situation?"

A second later, Kane shuffled out from underneath his cranny and jumped slightly as he found his face inches from the first officer's. "Mr. Spock!"

A pause was followed by an even longer interval. Spock patiently waited him out: this had happened before with new recruits. Kane finally found his voice. "Ahh…before I can re-link the directory panel to the engine room I have to disengage a recently installed bypass that's present. I've never seen one like it before, it appears antiquated and nearly shorted out the whole bridge system."

Spock's eyebrows shot up as the entire bridge went deathly quiet. Kane looked around the room nervously, sensing tension in the air but unaware of its cause.

"Indeed," said Spock. His tone measured, a brief pause, then, "Carry on, Ensign."

"Yes, sir," Kane spouted gratefully then shot back into the opening. Spock stood straight up and looked around the room, daring any crewmember to meet his gaze. None did, especially the Captain who seemed inordinately focused on the report pad just handed to him by a nearby Yeoman.

The seconds ticked by agonizingly slow for Kirk. He hailed sickbay for an update on Mr. Sharp - still unconscious but stable. Next was engineering.

"We're all set down here, Captain," Scott reported. "How's the lad making out?"

Kirk glanced over at the black boots protruding from the under the panel.

"Still working on it. Kirk out."

"Captain," Sulu yelled from his station, "I'm having difficulty locking onto the Klingon's signal. The sensor readings are close to zero - we're losing them."

Kirk bolted out of his chair and leaped over to the engineering panel. "Mr. Kane!"

Kane scurried out from his hole. "Captain?"

"Where is my warp drive?"

"Oh...I reconnected the warp drive signal a minute ago, sir...I was just reconfigur—"

"Mr. Sulu!" Kirk cut Kane off mid-sentence.

"On it, Captain." Sulu's hands flew over his panel. "Warp drive engaged!"

The reassuring hum of the engines and slight weightless feeling of being in warp drive confirmed Sulu's statement. Kirk harnessed his anger. He rounded on Kane, who's stricken face served to cause Kirk to check himself. _He knows he messed up,_ he reminded himself. He started to speak then paused, taking a deep breath.

"Never be shy about reporting _good _news, Ensign," Kirk said and turned back to his chair.

Visibly relieved, Kane replied, "Aye aye, Captain," and once again dived under the control panel to complete his repairs.

"Mr. Sulu," Kirk called out.

"Estimate one hour 4 minutes until weapons range contact with Klingon ship Captain."

Kirk nodded and settled back into his seat. A few minutes passed and Kane emerged from his hole and this time replaced the removable front plate. He stood up straight and made a show of wiping his hands busily down the front of his uniform. Kirk regarded him, "Ensign?"

"All done, sir, the connections are now sound and I've installed a self regulation system that will..." Kane continued on for another half minute.

"Excellent, Mr. Kane," Kirk finally interjected, halting Kane in midstream. _The boy is certainly well trained, and certainly not reluctant to share his knowledge. _

"Ensign, I need a replacement for Mr. Sharp on the bridge engineering controls. I realize you have only been with us a short time, but I would like your opinion on who, from among the engineering pool, would be the best candidate."

Kane may have been young and green but he even he could see the rather obvious trap laid out before him. Nonetheless, he considered his opinion seriously. "You mean, of course, aside from Mr. Scott, sir?"

"Of course."

Kane paused, appearing outwardly calm, but inside his mind was racing, mentally gathering up the face of each of the twelve possible crew members and doing a split second analysis, pros and cons of each one. Seconds passed.

"A difficult decision, Ensign?" Kirk asked, mistaking Kane's hesitation for confusion. He reached for the communication pad on his chair. "I will consult Mr. Scott."

"I realize sir," Kane quickly spoke out, staying the Captain's hand, "the question calls for some sort of humility and...deference, but under the circumstances I honestly feel _I_ am best suited to man the engineering controls."

The last words were spoken with only a faint hint of a tremor in his voice. _Not bad,_ Kirk thought to himself, _I wasn't expecting anything different._

"I agree. Assume your post, Ensign."

Kane's stunned expression telegraphed that he wasn't expecting that response. He recovered quickly and responded at a voice level at least three times louder than was necessary,

"Aye aye, Captain!"

Silently cursing himself for his blunder, he turned and marched promptly over to his station.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

An hour passed before Kirk finally received an update from McCoy in sickbay. "He's conscious and his vitals are stabilizing," McCoy had said, "but I'm keeping him for the next twenty-four hours under observation."

"Noted. Thanks, Bones." Relieved, Kirk signed off. Various mundane reports floated towards him, signaling, on the whole, the Enterprise was as ready as she'd ever be.

"Klingon weapons contact in 30 seconds," Sulu suddenly called out, quickly followed by Chekov's report: "All weapons fully charged, Captain."

Kirk nodded and looked towards Kane. "Shields on full power, Captain," the boy said steadily.

Kirk acknowledged the reports and settled deeper into his chair. He instinctively prepared himself for the first inevitable salvo he knew the Klingon battle cruiser would fire. Only seconds later, the Enterprise shook, the bridge lights flickered slightly then returned to full power as the barrage began.

"All shields at maximum capacity, Captain," Kane reported.

"Fire when ready, Mr. Chekov," Kirk ordered.

"We have now officially crossed into Valreation territory, Captain," Spock called out from his station.

"Thank you, Mr. Spock," Kirk replied. _And thank you for not reminding me that we are now in direct violation of an ironclad treaty forbidding us from doing exactly what we are about to do._

"Phaser banks firing now," Chekov said as the dual rays streaking out towards the Klingon vessel.

"Direct hit," Spock said as he looked up from his monitor. "No damage to enemy vessel."

The Enterprise lurched suddenly to the right as it absorbed another blast. "Starboard shields down to 40%, Captain!" Kane called out.

"Mr. Sulu, begin evasive maneuvers. We have speed to our advantage, let's start using it."

"Aye aye, Captain."

The Enterprise shifted to the left as Sulu angled it in a side flanking position around the battle cruiser. _Find a weakness, however small, and exploit it._

"Mr. Chekov, continue firing at-will."

"Aye, Capt—"

Spock's voice cut in: "Unknown vessel. 10,000 meters aft of star cruiser."

"Identify, Spock…Valreation?" _It has to be,_ Kirk thought. _Who _else_ would be violating Valreation space? _

"Data coming up now, Captain. Valreation inter-planet shuttle, class 4, impulse driven, 10 seating capacity."

Kirk looked up to the screen and his stomach gave a lurch. He would replay this moment over in his mind countless times in the next hour, never resolving it, always questioning himself.

The Klingon vessel, obviously spotting the Valreations, shifted position, effectively putting the Valreation ship between it and the Enterprise. It happened in the blink of an eye - far too quickly for Kirk to rescind his order and halt Chekov from firing. It was a good shot; one phaser directly hit the Klingon cruiser. The other, however, obliterated the small Valreation vessel. The battle cruiser absorbed the phaser. The shuttle, however, simply vanished, vaporizing instantaneously.

Chekov turned his head towards Kirk, his voice shaking. "Captain, I..."

"Eyes front, Lieutenant!" Kirk snapped. "Continue firing!"

Chekov turned quickly and resumed handling his controls, set to fire as his phaser banks recharged.

"Mr. Sulu, continue evasive maneuvers," Kirk ordered.

It was an unnecessary order - Sulu was already bringing the Enterprise around in a reverse circling pattern. However, he had hesitated briefly, understandably, but it proved to be crucial. The battle cruiser fired a full barrage, catching the Enterprise square on, spinning the ship almost 60 degrees. The bridge lights sputtered once again and then remained steady, but dim; the onboard computer was saving the ship's power for more imperative functions.

Kane repositioned himself on his seat and checked his console. "Forward and aft shields at zero capacity, Captain."

"Mr. Sulu, swing us around, show them our starboard side."

"Turning now, Captain," then, "controls sluggish, Captain."

The answer came simultaneously from Scotty ringing in from engineering. "They're down, Captain. Warp drives are offline...I can only give you impulse for now."

"Not good enough, Scotty! I need those warp drives."

As if to illustrate his command, Kirk watched as the Klingon cruiser slid towards the Enterprise aft flank - its captain sensing weakness and moving in for the kill.

"Mr. Sulu!"

"I'm trying, Captain!" Sulu's hands stabbed at the controls. The Enterprise was turning, but maddeningly slower than the approaching Klingon vessel. Sulu suddenly stopped and quickly began manipulating a new batch of controls. Obviously frustrated, he raised his hands in a helpless gesture and turned towards Kirk. Lifting his hand, Kirk motioned to Sulu that he understood, sensing it seconds earlier: the Enterprise had come to a complete and utter stop.

Helpless, Kirk looked up to the screen, expecting to see the cruiser bearing down on them, firing at will on his disabled ship. Inexplicably, the Klingons still maintained their same position from before, laying about 10,000 meters aft of the Enterprise.

"Mr. Spock?"

"Stasis field emanating from the neighbouring planet, Captain." Spock looked up from his screen. "Both vessels are effectively held in a fixed position."

Kirk nodded, pondering this strange development. He reached over to his communication pad to call Scotty but halted as Uhura said, "Captain, I have the Valreation high security commander on line demanding to speak with you."

_I'm sure he is_, Kirk thought. He held his hand up, signaling Uhura to hold while he studied the screen again, making absolutely sure the Klingon cruiser held its position and posed no immediate threat. Satisfied, he lowered his hand.

"Put him through, Lieutenant."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Uhura signaled to Kirk that the line was open to the Valreation high commander.

"This is James T. Kirk, captain of the federation starship Enterprise."

"Janus, commander of security for the Valreation glorification of the One." The voice filling the bridge was firm and deep, emanating authority. "Our records show a James T. Kirk listed with the rank of Admiral, planet bound on Earth."

Kirk cleared his throat.

"Your records are outdated, Commander."

A brief pause then, "No matter, 'Captain'. I was prepared to relay the entire list of criminal acts you and your ship have perpetrated on the Valreation Glorification peoples in the next half hour," Janus paused, then continued, "however, in the interest of brevity will you allow me to offer a condensed summary? I will after all need to go through this again with the Klingons." He said the last name with a faint hint of a sneer.

"Janus," Kirk raised his voice, matching the intense authoritative tone of the Valreation, "I demand you release my ship immediately or face the full consequences of the Federation!"

Hoping for a reaction, perhaps thinking he was instilling a little intimidation, Kirk was disheartened by the reply. The Valreations tone was steady; Kirk even detected a note of amusement.

"Captain, you are in absolutely no position to make any demands on me...furthermore, you and I know the _last _thing you wish me to do is neutralize the stasis field and release both ships."

_Bluff made and called_, Kirk thought. _Change of tactics._ "Please relay your summary, Commander."

"Thank you," Janus said evenly. "A total of seven violations of the interplanetary treaty between the Valreation Peoples and the Federation regarding our planet's boundaries. This includes the act of warfare between you and the Klingon's, resulting in what led to the most serious charge of destruction of Valreation property and lives. Ten lives, to be exact, Captain. We attribute equal blame to both parties, you and the Klin—"

Kirk stood from his chair, interrupting the Valreation. His tension was building quickly inside, partly attributed to the fact that the Enterprise itself was growing measurably warmer, the arms of his chair nearly untouchable, turning a bright red.

"The Enterprise was reacting to a cowardly attack by the Klingons on one of our science stations, many lives—"

Now it was Janus's turn to interrupt. "Klingons," he continued as if Kirk had never spoken, "share equal blame and as such, will offer equal compensation. Ten lives lost, ten replaced. Five bodies will be transported from each ship down to our planet for neutralization – painless, of course."

"You must be mad." Kirk breathed out the words, loud enough for the Valreation to hear.

"Mad? I assure you I am not, Captain. An eye for an eye, that is the penalty for our murdered citizens."

"It was a horrible accident…" Kirk began. Sweat poured from his brow.

"The rising temperature on your ship," Janus continued, again seemingly oblivious to Kirk's explanation, "is attributable to an increase in the stasis field signal. We will reduce it now."

Even as he spoke, Kirk could feel with relief the heat begin to diminish.

"We felt a demonstration was necessary. If our demands are not met within the next two hours, it will return and continue incrementally until your entire ship...well...melts would be an unscientific but accurate description. Two hours, Captain. Goodbye for now."

"Wait!" Kirk cried out but Uhura signaled that the connection was severed. Kirk sat back down in his chair, gingerly resting his hands on the still cooling arms, repressing the impulse to pound his fist into them. He felt the eyes of the entire bridge crew resting on him. Mentally gathering himself, Kirk looked up to the screen. In the foreground, the Klingon cruiser, menacingly close, within a phaser barrage or two of destroying the Enterprise. Beyond lay the home planet of Valreatia, smaller than Earth, more Mars-like, Kirk thought, as its rotation revealed a reddish hue on the near-waterless surface. He realized he was falling into a familiar pattern – thinking of home in times of crisis. _Klingon cruiser or Valreatia - one or both of those situations need to be altered_, Kirk thought. _I'll be dammed if I will hand over 5 crewmembers like lamb to the slaughter._

He turned to Uhura. "Lieutenant, have Dr. McCoy and Mr. Scott report to the level 3 conference room immediately."

He rose from his chair heading towards the elevator, motioning to his first officer. "Mr. Spock, if you please. Mr. Sulu, you have the con."

Kirk began the meeting briefing McCoy and Scott on the recent events including the vaporizing of the Valreation shuttle and Janus's ultimatum. He gave McCoy time to absorb this particular turn of events and even more time to vent his emotions, until he abruptly cut him off with a question to Spock: "Tell us, Spock, briefly, who are we dealing with, these Valreations? I know their basic history, but break it down..."

"Understood, Captain." Spock recognized Kirk was looking for an advantage, insight into what made them tick. "They arose in the mass exodus from Earth in the early 22nd century. Much like your 16th century American pilgrims, they were looking for a new home where they could practice their beliefs unrestrained from the pressures of Earth's culture of the time. Finally settling on what they now call Valreatia, they built a civilization. Fortune favoured them in having the planet contain an abundant supply of Dilithium crystals, which they have exploited to its full potential. They trade and sell to all but owe allegiance to none. They have repeatedly rejected overtures to join the Federation or any other empire. They do their business off-planet, not allowing outsiders within their planetary boundaries. They are a theocracy: God first and all others second. They are foremost a literal people - literal in their beliefs and their dealings with foreigners. If they say they are going to do something, they will. Captain...if the Valreations say they are going to annihilate this ship, they will."

A heavy silence followed when Spock finished. Kirk was aware of the dangers of dealing with a society whose way of life was governed by a higher power. Often they were impenetrable and inflexible, immune to what one would regard as logical discourse. _Still…_Kirk reflected, _such inflexibility might also breed some predictability_. As well the Klingons, a race also known to follow a set pattern of...

"Captain." Spock was speaking again, interrupting Kirk's train of thought. Spock looked up from the computer monitor he had just been immersed in.

"I have drawn up several provisions involving the crew, ranging from youngest to oldest, most recently enlisted to oldest serving, gender, race..."

As Spock, continued Kirk merely looked at him, unable to respond, an overwhelming sense of dismay coursing through him.

McCoy appeared perplexed at first, then as it dawned on him what Spock was presenting. "By God, Spock! You cold-blooded Vulcan! We're sitting here trying to figure a way out of this mess and you're over there conjuring up some sort of...death list."

Spock turned his full attention on McCoy. "Doctor, as usual, you have..."

Kirk knew where this was headed and raised his hand, cutting off Spock. "Bones," he said gently, "he's doing his job, nothing more."

McCoy sat back, now more alarmed by the resignation in Kirk's voice then Spock's morbid list making.

Kirk turned to his engineer. "Scotty, you have been notably quiet, what do you think?"

Scott made a small imperceptible shake of his head and spoke, his tone signaling the frustration he and the others at the table obviously all felt.

"Its a right pickle, Captain. Even if we had full use of our warp drive, we couldn't shake ourselves from this tractor field. Weapons are offline. They seem a stubborn tribe of people to deal with...I'll think more on it, Captain, but if you're looking for volunteers I'd like to put my name in the hat."

Kirk was taken aback, not by Scott's magnanimous offer but the message of capitulation it presented. Anger rapidly replaced momentary confusion, directed, he realized, more at himself for exposing his own show of helplessness moments earlier. Instead of holding it in check he let it build, knowing instinctively it was the right time for it. He stood suddenly, slapping his hand on the conference table. McCoy and Scott jumped as if shot. Spock simply looked at Kirk, waiting.

Kirk took a deep breath, eyeing each of his officers in turn. When he did speak, the anger was gone, replaced now with an earnest almost impassioned tone. "Gentlemen, we have traveled this universe together nearly ten years. We have all lost people under our command, never willingly, always with a deep sense of loss." He circled the table, never losing eye contact with his men. "Now, we are directed to simply hand over the very same people who look to us for guidance and protection." Kirk spun from the table, facing away from the other officers, seemingly engaged in an inner struggle. Moments later he turned towards them, his face set, a decision obviously made.

"I won't do it," he said calmly. "Not today or any other day." Kirk started towards the door.

"When I return I want options from you three - we're not leaving here as a group until we come up with a solution."


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Kirk exited the room. He paused outside the door, not knowing which direction he was going only that he had to go somewhere, find time to think. He started walking, down corridors, changing levels, down more corridors. Passing crew members who smiled and acknowledged him respectfully, surprised to see him in these parts of the ship. A few tried to stop and engage him in conversation. He begged off, firmly but politely.

_They do like me,_ he thought. Kirk knew some of his old instructors at the academy would be aghast.

"They can love you or hate you, it makes no never mind," he recalled one saying, "as long as they respect you." Or, "Beware the leader who is well liked - he bears watching the most." Kirk conceded they had a point but it was never as simple as that. Now, passing this multitude of bodies who trusted him with their very lives, he couldn't help wondering if the sacrifice of five was not perhaps the best solution. The thought no sooner entered his head then he silently cursed himself. While he was at it, he might as well blame himself for putting them into this position in the first place. Disobeying orders, he had taken what was to be a ceremonial last run of the Enterprise and placed them all in mortal danger. Rounding a corner on the second level, deep in thought, he bumped straight into Ensign Kane.

"Excuse me," Kane said quickly, then looking up, saw it was Kirk. "Captain!"

Kirk's initial impulse was to mutter a quick response and move on, but his recent memories of the academy had moved his mind in another direction.

"Where are you off to, Ensign, in such a hurry?"

"Just commencing my break, sir, on the way to mess. I overheard it is replicating a Romulan style steak..."

"Excellent," Kirk interrupted, smiling. "Best eaten on an empty stomach. Let's work you up an appetite." Kirk motioned for Kane to follow him and started off down the corridor with the startled ensign hustling to catch up. Kirk appraised the young man striding beside him.

"You take after your mother," Kirk said.

"Yes sir, I am told that frequently," Kane replied.

"You are aware that I _knew _your mother and father?"

"Yes sir, in fact it was one of the reasons I requested to serve on the Enterprise."

Kirk chuckled. "Even after hearing some of the stories your father must have told you?"

A painful silence followed as Kane appeared to be choosing his words carefully.

"Actually, Captain…my father didn't spea— ah, tell that many stories about you and him. In fact, he and I didn't share many stories together at all."

Kane appeared to want to continue speaking, then fell silent. Inwardly, Kirk was stunned.

Kane must have sensed something in his manner and quickly spoke. "But my mother couldn't stop talking about her time at the academy with you and dad."

Kane realized he had said the right thing as Kirk, in spite of himself, smiled broadly.

"We were inseparable," Kirk murmured. "The three of us," he added moments later.

"My favourite story," Kane said, warming to the subject, "was about the night the three of you first met."

In an instant, the memory jolted Kirk, sending his mind reeling back almost twenty years earlier.

It happened in the first week of induction, before any of the trainees knew each other with any type of familiarity. Kirk and Tom had buddied up from the start, and being like-minded, both recognized early on one particular flaw in the academy's program. Antiquated, or so they thought, customs still survived regarding fraternization between the male and female recruits. Housed in separate wards, their only period of contact existed during daytime classes - even meals were segregated. Tom had said, "If we don't act soon everybody but us will be paired up and the only thing left to chase will be that surly 2nd year Vulcan we ran into the other day - what was his name?" Kirk realized Tom was exaggerating on purpose but conceded he had a good point. The two young men attempted to puzzle out a solution to this problem. Finding the solution lay in the form of a question: since new male recruits were barred from entering the woman's quarters, what males, if any, _were_ allowed? The solution was obvious. Other than high-ranking officers, the military police were the only exception. Since the MP corp was staffed by 95% males, they had no choice but to allow them access to the woman's quarters. From there, the plan evolved overnight. Surreptitious monitoring of the MP's schedule allowed Tom and Kirk to gain entry to their change facilities, nab a pair of MP uniforms and boldly go where no male inductee had gone before. They coordinated their time when the real MP's were elsewhere making their rounds, and marched straight into the woman's quarters, heads held high and confident - just two fine specimens of the academy military police making their nightly rounds.

The plan itself was far from complex: just try as many dorms as possible and engage as many female recruits as humanly possible. They found the first dorm they came to didn't have anyone at home. They never made it past the second dorm. After a brief pause and a feminine voice calling out "one moment", the door slid open to reveal...Ellen. Hair pulled unceremoniously back and pinned up in a rather practical bun, no visible makeup, wearing a downtime shift that revealed...actually nothing, she still took Kirk and Tom's breath away. Flabbergasted, the two would-be Romeo's stood awkwardly silent, the harsh reality that their makeshift plan was already crashing down upon them. Ellen looked from one to the other with a questioning gaze.

"Yes?"

"Contraband," Tom finally blurted out. Remembering the story the two of them had hashed out earlier, Kirk put on an authoritative tone to his voice and took over.

"Ma'am, we have reports of new recruits smuggling in contraband. We are under orders to search the rooms."

With a shrug, Ellen let them into the room. Within 5 minutes, she broke them down and had them confess the entire plan. After 15 minutes, they were ordered to sit down while Ellen prepared Virellian tea. 30 minutes in, they were laughing and swapping stories and after an hour, as they were leaving, they had plans to meet again tomorrow.

Ellen had a jar of Earth caviar she had smuggled in and confessed with a wink that she was dying to open it. They were instructed to bring the crackers and "something to wash it down with". They were smitten. Except for one nagging thought which they brought up on the next night: "Ellen," Tom said, "if you knew early on we weren't MP's, why would you let us stay in your room?"

She smiled and turned away, acting as if she wasn't going to answer the question. When she turned back, their faces were turned up to her expectantly. Ellen realized they weren't going to let her get away without answering.

"Okay, boys." She circled around until she was standing behind the two of them with her arms around them both. Her voice changed from its usual playfulness, sounding more serious now. "I guess it was because I...looked into my future and asked myself if I would be happier with you two dopes in it...or not.

The word rolled over them and the room was quiet. Then, "Damn, it will be fun finding out whether I'm a good judge of character or not." She began giggling, and lightly slapped them both on the head.

Standing now in the corridor of the Enterprise next to Ellen's son, Kirk pulled his mind away from the reverie. _Strange how expectations can guide our lives._ He did everything in his power during their time at the academy not to disavow Ellen of that belief. For the most part, he was successful. For the most part. He looked up at Kane, who had been speaking to him.

"…didn't think she would have survived the academy if you two hadn't showed up at her door that night, even though she said 'they were poor substitutes for military police'".

Kirk smiled.

"I, however," Kane continued, "during my time at the Academy, took your plan and added a few modifications and, if you will allow me, sir, was much more convincing. My mother told me I was an actor since I was four years old."

Kirk was beaming now. "Oh, really Mr. Kane, a few modifi—" Kirk suddenly stopped talking, his smile vanished and he was now staring intently at Kane.

"Captain, I..."

Kirk realized he was alarming the young man. "No no, its not that – good for you." Kirk gave him a halfhearted slap on the arm. "What your mother spoke of just a second ago…_substitute_."

Kirk turned from Kane, involuntarily looking for the way back to the conference room.

"Substitute." He mumbled the word to himself again, his eyes focusing on nothing as his thoughts turned inward, churning the idea that was flowing into him. Kane stood by idly, mildly distressed by his captain's behavior but sensing that silence was prudent. A few more moments passed and Kirk wheeled on him. Kane noticed instantly the change in his expression, gone was the solemn disquiet, replaced now with a burning energy.

"Follow me," Kirk said simply and turned on his heels, half-jogging down the corridor.

No time to digest, time only for a quick thought as Kane bolted after him, remembering his mother's words as she first learned her son would be serving under James Kirk: "Don't take him too seriously, but Patrick, never underestimate him."

Kane had a foreboding sense that he was about to learn the _why_ of that warning.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Kirk burst into the conference room and signalled with his hand for the three officers to remain seated. He headed to the closest communication pad on the wall and quickly tapped the controls.

"Lieutenant Uhura, contact the Klingon cruiser and tell them I wish to speak to their captain - arrange a visual connection, patch it through to the conference room."

"Aye aye, Captain."

Kirk turned to face his men and noticed Kane standing awkwardly off to the side.

"Take a seat Mr. Kane."

McCoy said, "Jim, what is going—"

"In a minute, Bones." Kirk held up his hand. "Scotty, the transporter, under our...present circumstances, is it operational?"

"Well, Captain, this stasis field has neutralized our deflector shields...and presumably the Klingons also, and the field itself poses no barrier to the transporter...so my educated guess would be…yes."

"Good, can you get me a definite?"

Scott nodded and moved to the communication panel across the room and hailed the transporter room.

Uhura's voice rang out from the overhead speaker. "Captain, I have the Captain of the Klingon vessel standing by."

"Thank you, Lieutenant."

Kirk moved over and sat in front of the monitor. McCoy studied his captain intently. Animated and seemingly back in control as he entered the room moments ago, now, as Kirk reached over to initiate the telecall, his shoulders visibly drooped and his face registered…could it possibly be fear?

"This is Captain James T. Kirk of the USS Enterprise."

Kirk watched as the picture on the monitor cleared and the image of the Klingon Commander filled the screen. Kirk maintained his composure but was inwardly startled. _He's just a boy, _he thought. He quickly reconfigured, not a boy but certainly a young man, not even sporting the seemingly mandatory beard of a Klingon who has reached manhood.

"So the rumours are true," the young Klingon said. "Admiral to Captain."

Kirk resisted the urge to bark back at the insolent statement, instead, keeping his tone measured and even adding a touch of deference, he asked: "To whom am I addressing?"

It may have been a slight glitch in the computer translator, but the reply sounded almost bored. "Commander Tanek Sartok. What is it you want, Captain?"

"This is a difficult time, Commander," Kirk began the speech he had been formulating minutes ago. "Unspeakable sacrifices are called for. To have crew members die in battle is one thing - to willingly hand them over to be killed is another. Our war now is not with each other, our war is together against the Valreations."

Kirk studied the young captain, watched as he settled back in his chair and offered Kirk what appeared to be a bemused smile.

"War is war, Kirk. The Federation, the Valreations, it matters little to me. When this unpleasantness passes it will give me no end of pleasure to return to this pitiful planet with an armada, and wipe it off the solar map."

"Do you not find it difficult to ask five of your crew to march to their certain death?" Kirk pressed.

"Difficult?" No, not at all. As for asking," Sartok gave the Klingon version of a scoff. "I did not _ask_, Kirk."

The Klingon commander was now, as Kirk hoped, becoming agitated with his subservient tone. Leaning forward now in his seat, he said, "When word went out about our predicament, I had volunteers lining up on every level of this ship. Even now my five volunteers are sequestered in a holding room, composing their final testaments to their friends and family."

Kirk, unwittingly, slammed the table top with his fist, flooded with relief, and a small amount of pride in the success of his gambit. Covering instantly he appeared frustrated, glowering back at the Klingon.

Sartok settled back in his chair, his agitation passed, he affected the air of nonchalance he began the dialogue with. "Give up your five or not, either the Valreations will destroy your or I will,..I was going to say it makes no difference to me but that is not quite true."

"I'm sure you have your preference," Kirk said.

The Klingon hesitated. "You are mistaken, Captain. Yes, the destruction of the Enterprise on my record would do wonders for my career - triple my advancement, in fact. The end of a legend, however…I am referring to you, Kirk, even one who has shrank so noticeably with age…"

Kirk felt Scott stirring beside him.

"Would come as somewhat...bittersweet."

Kirk gave an imperceptible nod. "Kirk out." He snapped off the monitor and turned to face his men.

McCoy way unable to contain himself.

"Jim, what in the blue blazes was that? In all our years together, I've seen you yell at Klingons, curse them, beat them senseless on occasion, hell even showed one or two of them respect, but I have never seen you—"

"Display such a generous degree of deferment." It was Spock cutting in, possibly to save McCoy from uttering something rash. Kirk smiled at Spock.

"Thank you Mr. Spock." Kirk rose from his chair and moved towards Kane.

"Substitution, gentlemen. Mr. Kane here provided the idea."

Kane's face remained impassive, not ready to accept credit for an idea he had no knowledge of providing. Kirk continued: "The Valreations asked for five bodies...and that is what we will give them." He faced Spock. "Sartok revealed five crew members on the Klingon ship, isolated in a separate room - can you locate them by sensor, Mr. Spock?"

"Undoubtedly, Captain, but I cannot guarantee they are the five Sart—"

"Understood," Kirk interrupted, sensing that time was now critical. In fact, it mattered little to him if they were the volunteers as long as the number was right.

"Mr. Scott, can you beam those five aboard the Enterprise?"

"Not without a communicator nearby, Captain. I wouldn't be able to lock—"

"Onto their co-ordinates." Kirk finished for him. "I thought so."

Kane stood suddenly. "Captain, why don't we transport an open line communicator close to the Klingon volunteers? Mr. Scott locks onto the signal and beams them aboard."

The room went suddenly quiet as all eyes turned on Kane, who began to wilt under the attention and quickly sat down with a barely audible "Sir" to finish his statement. Kirk smiled at him. He had thought of that scenario also. "An intuitive suggestion, ensign, but let us follow this through. We somehow manage to beam aboard the Klingon volunteers then _forward_ them onto the Valreations, who for the sake of argument accept them as payment of our dept. The Klingons will undoubtedly gather five more of the same and send _them_ down. Both parties have fulfilled their obligations and therefore both ships are released from the stasis field. Where does that leave us?"

Scott replied first. "With impulse power only, deflector shields running between 0 and 20%, toe to toe with a fully operational Klingon battle cruiser-with an impudent young pup at the helm."

"Thank you, Mr. Scott. Exactly right. What is the status of the warp drives?"

"At least ninety minutes until we have them back online."

Kirk nodded and moved towards Kane again. Hesitating, studying the young ensign, Kirk let out a slight sigh, as if he had just come to a very difficult decision.

"Mr. Kane, for your sake I hope your answer is no to this question - are you fluent in Klingonese?"

Again, Kane was out of his chair, his arm extended swiftly away from and back to his chest in a flawless Klingon military salute, simultaneously emitting a ten second long barrage of what sounded very much to Kirk like an impassioned speech in fluent Klinongese. Kane remained standing at attention as Kirk backed away slightly from him, glancing quizzically at Spock.

"Mr. Kane thanks his captain for the honour of addressing him and assures him of his loyalty to the glorious Klingon empire and its 10,000 year reign." Spock finished his translation with an approving nod to Kane who acknowledged it with a slight nod of his own and returned his eyes to attention.

"Let's hope not," Kirk quipped. "At ease, Ensign." Kane let out a big breath of air and melted back into his seat.

"I'm confident I already know the answer to this next question but what is your understanding of Klingon vessel interiors, primarily engine rooms?"

"Standard layout designs of enemy vessels are incorporated into academy training as well as key specific locations. The Klingon engine room, for example, is both similar and dissimilar in many respects to Federation vessels, the first..." Kane noticed the expression on Kirk's face and, this time, without prompting, finished his dissertation abruptly with, "I am familiar with Klingon engine rooms, Captain."

McCoy stood up. "Jim, where is all this going?"

Kirk beckoned McCoy to walk over to him. Taking McCoy by the arm, he led him to Kane and motioned for the young ensign to rise. Leading McCoy almost nose to nose with Kane, Kirk said.

"Look at him, Bones, can you make a Klingon out of him?"

"I'm a doctor, Jim, not a—"

"I know, not a miracle worker. But you heard him speak?"

"I did, and he sounds like a fifty year old Klingon gunnery sergeant."

"Exactly. I need you to make the outside match the inside. I need someone on that ship, Bones. We all need..." Kirk didn't finish his sentence.

McCoy looked Kane over head to toe, not quite scrawny but certainly not filled out, still retaining a youthful slimness. Sandy blond hair, fair complexion…he was, McCoy surmised, the exact antithesis of a Klingon. McCoy patted Kane on the arm and bade him to sit back down, then turned with Kirk away from him.

"He's so damn young, Jim."

Kirk understood. McCoy wasn't referring to the medical procedure. They both knew the danger of sending someone onto an enemy vessel. Indeed, Kirk felt the nauseating churn inside as he formulated this plan. Not just a young ensign, but Ellen and Tom's child! Practically his own nephew. But there was no time for an alternative. Kirk turned to Kane who rose up to meet his gaze. "What say you, Patrick? Do you understand what I am asking of you?"

Kirk sensed Kane was going to lay on the bravado, strike out his arm again, possibly launch into another Klingon tirade. Instead, Kane nodded solemnly and replied quietly. "I do, sir, and I accept."

Kirk turned away quickly, hiding from him the surge of emotion he felt.

"He's all yours, Bones. Quick as you can, Doctor."

McCoy nodded and headed out the door followed by Kane, who turned suddenly and addressed Kirk: "I am the best one for the job, Captain."

He turned and quickly headed out the door. A young man's cockiness maybe, but Kirk knew better. Sensing his Captains guilt, Kane was merely trying to relieve him of some of it. Only partly successful...Kirk pushed aside the dark thought and faced his two remaining officers. "Right, gentlemen, Mr. Kane is going to require a little help aboard the Klingon cruiser." Kirk reached for the on board computer terminal and began typing. He pointed to the object now spinning in silhouette on the monitor. "That - only smaller. It must be compact enough to fit on his person, undercover, so to speak."

Kirk eyed his officers' reactions, Scott pursed his lips and nodded thoughtfully. Spock, well, his expression didn't change at all. Kirk took that as a positive sign.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Kirk spent the remainder of the hour filling out the final details of the plan. Scott headed off to the armory to construct the 'package' for Kane, leaving Spock to commence the probe of the Klingon ship. They got lucky. Only one group of five crew members was located gathered on the ship. Seemingly set apart, Spock found them in an aft room, lower level, no other crew members registering within a hundred meters. He quickly forwarded the co-ordinates to the transport room.

Kirk arranged the uniform for Kane. Debating between high, low or middle rank -each had their pros and cons. He decided and passed his instructions along to a staffing officer to fill the order.

_So much riding on one young man_, Kirk fretted. It was unlike Kirk to second-guess himself, but this decision came down to control, or more accurately, the lack of it. Once Kane transported onto the Klingon cruiser he was literally on his own. Three main objectives to complete, each one fraught with unforeseeable difficulties. Number one: board the enemy ship, make contact with and facilitate the transport of the five Klingon sacrifice crewmembers onto the Enterprise. Two: make his way to the engine room and arm and place Mr. Scott's package. Three: contact the Enterprise and transport safely on board the ship before the Klingon's…Kirk halted his thoughts there. So much riding on one young man.

Kirk indicated to Spock he was heading to sickbay and was no more than two meters out the door when Uhura hailed him over the ship intercom. Kirk moved swiftly over to the closest communication pad. "Kirk here."

"Captain, I have the Valreation high commander on standby. He is calling to remind us the deadline is approaching and asking our intentions."

"How thoughtful," Kirk said outloud. "Tell him our preparations are nearly complete and we shall meet his deadline."

Kirk felt the stunned silence emanating from Uhura's end. After all these years, didn't she trust him? He softened his voice. "Tell him, Lieutenant."

"Yes, Captain."

"I'll be in sickbay if you need me. Kirk out."

Kirk found McCoy standing alone, obviously cleaning up after the operation.

"Our patient?" Kirk said.

McCoy motioned to a small room in the corner, discreetly blocked by a partition.

"He's changing into his uniform."

Kirk was anxious to see him. "How did it go, Bones?"

"Well you can see for yourself, he should be out anytime." McCoy then raised his voice to a near shout.

"He's been in there forever!"

They heard a small commotion in the room and then suddenly the partition was pushed aside and out stepped Kane. Or not Kane.

_Remarkable,_ thought Kirk. He and McCoy advanced on the Klingon now towering over both of them. Platform boots, full beard, and the once slim build now filled out and setting an overall imposing figure. It wasn't simply the prosthetics and the height and uniform. No, it was the facial expression and body language that Kane brought to it. A consummate actor, Kirk reflected, spending a large portion of his young life pretending to be someone else, perhaps seeking a character in whom his inexplicably distant father would somehow connect with.

Now, Looking down at him with a near snarl curling his lip, Kane stared straight into Kirk's eyes with a challenging, almost expectant expression. Kirk immediately felt his defenses raise, conscious of his hands forming into fists. _Enough,_ Kirk thought, _this is going too far. _Then he got it. It was his idea about the uniform: General. Kane outranked them both.

Instantly standing to attention, Kirk effected the best imitation of a Klingon salute he could muster. McCoy catching on, sighed heavily and performed a rather lacklustre effort, his arm trailing carelessly off to the side. The dual salutes produced an immediate effect on Kane. His expression softened slightly and he gave an almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgement. Obviously not satisfied with McCoy's lack of respect, he squared himself in front of the doctor and began a dressing down of him in pure Klingon that put Kirk's teeth on edge. Never having any love for Klingonese, it never failed to generate an emotion in Kirk that bordered on blood lust. McCoy had backed up a few steps and when Kane broke off for a second to catch his breath, McCoy turned to Kirk with a slight tremor in his voice.

"He hasn't spoken a word of English since he got off the operating table."

Kirk looked up and met the gaze of the Klingon general standing in front of them.

"Remarkable," he breathed.

Kirk escorted Kane out of sickbay, McCoy giving no objections, and began briefing him on the go. They stopped first at the armory and collected Mr. Scott and his device, then continued on to the transporter room for a rendezvoused with Spock.

Kirk walked Kane up to the transporter platform. "You know what your parents will do to me if something happens to you?"

"They are Starfleet trained, sir, I'm sure they—"

"Will never forgive me," Kirk said gripping Kane on the arm. "Come back to us, Patrick."

Kane nodded, "I will, sir."

Kirk gave his arm a final squeeze and stepped off the platform.

"He's all yours, Mr. Scott."

"Okay, laddie, you land in the corridor approximately two meters away from the room you are entering, just move six paces forward and its on your right. I'll na' move a muscle from this spot until I hear your signal. Good luck."

Kane didn't trust himself to speak at this point. He gave an exaggerated nod to Scott to let him know he understood. Throwing his shoulders back, he forced himself to assume a placid expression and stared ahead into the faces of the three officers in front of him. Never feeling more scared or alone in his entire life, he felt the familiar inner charge of the transporter and involuntarily closed his eyes.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Relief swept over Kane as he realized he was alone in the corridor. He surveyed his surroundings. Being in a simulation Klingon vessel was one thing; actually standing in a real one was another. It was not wholly unlike a Federation vessel. The Klingon's utilized wider hallways, higher ceilings, a more utilitarian metallic paneling on the corridor walls. It wasn't so much the interior of the ship that disturbed him, but rather knowing what lay inside. Over 500 aliens, each and every one, male or female, capable of tearing him limb from limb.

Momentarily frozen in step, Kane chided himself for losing focus, lurching forward he looked to his right and again experienced a jolt of relief as the door was precisely where Mr. Scott said it would be. Building confidence, Kane stood outside the door, listening for any sounds. Silence, or was that music he heard? Throwing his shoulders back, he entered swiftly before his nerves frayed even more.

Darkness, or close to it. Dimly lit, Kane had trouble orienting himself. The room had an overpowering smell about it, not at all unpleasant, and filled with a light cloudy mist. The music he had heard from outside, now clearly playing was a haunting, somber melody. _Probably some Klingon death dirge,_ Kane thought. His eyes began adjusting to the room and he was now able to make out other bodies around him. Scattered about, laying, sitting, Kane counted five apart from himself. The most surprising thing for Kane was the almost total lack of effect his presence was having on the group. Some had not even bothered to glance up at him, others had looked up briefly, seemingly losing interest and returning to their former dreamlike states. Kane himself felt his mind wanting to drift, fall off into a sleepy haze - that smoke-must be a form of a mild narcotic. With an enormous effort, Kane willed himself into focus. Time was a factor; at any moment someone else could walk through the door and...Kane let the thought lay incomplete - too much effort, when he must focus on the task.

"Brothers." The word came out slow and garbled, too soft to rouse any heads his direction. Kane's original plan was to enter spitting fire, shock the volunteers, keep them off guard until he could maneuver them together for transporting. Instinct, and now the surroundings, forced him to change his tactics. Kane cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

"Brothers!" Louder now with a bit of a growl. This was more successful; at least all heads were now turned in his direction.

"Is it time, General?" came a voice out of the gloom.

One plan had him tricking the volunteers into believing they were being transported to the planet but this was discounted. Even Klingon soldiers could panic at the end. Best to have them at ease as long as possible. Kane addressed the whole room.

"Not time yet, no, but gather around me that I may look closer upon Klingon's bravest soldiers."

One by one, the volunteers dragged themselves out of their stupor and stood by Kane, forming a half-circle around him. Momentary panic pierced through even Kane's drug-induced haze. Surrounded by five male Klingon soldiers, all garbed in ceremonial uniforms standing inches from him, he lost his voice.

The six stood together as the seconds passed and Kane struggled to regain control. Kane caught the eye of the soldier standing directly in front of him. Some semblance of focus seemed to be returning to the Klingon's eyes - perhaps wondering what a strange general was doing on board his ship when there were no other Klingon vessels within a million parsecs of them. It was enough to jolt Kane out of his stupor.

"My only wish," Kane managed to emit with some tone of control, "is that I had the opportunity to change places with one of you heroes, that I may live forever immortal in the annals of our great empire."

Out of the corner of his eye, Kane spotted one of the volunteers beginning to raise his arm. Quickly, he added, "But, alas, duty to the Empire forbids me this great honour."

Kane watched gratefully as the arm dejectedly lowered to the ground.

"Now, my brothers, gather closer as I have a parting gift for you."

Kane pulled the communicator out from under the sash of his uniform and snapped it open. Motioning the surrounding Klingon's to gather closer, he held it in front of him, and reaching forward he passed it to the closest Klingon standing next to him.

"Ripped from the dying hands of a Federation pig, I give it to you now, brothers, as a small token of appreciation for your service to the Empire."

As he was speaking, Kane was subtly moving backwards, creating distance between himself and the group of five.

"Go ahead," Kane said. "Speak into it."

The Klingon holding the communicator looked from Kane to the others beside him. He turned back to Kane. "What do I say?"

"Why…ah...beam me up!"

Kane did his best try at the translation into Klingonese. The Klingon looked quizzically at Kane then bent his head and repeated the word directly into the communicator. Nothing happened. The Klingon looked back up at Kane, noticing now that he was standing far apart, practically against the opposite wall. Kane felt his heart constrict and berated himself for thinking Mr. Scott would understand the signal. Fighting back his fear he made a decision he hoped dearly he wouldn't regret. Sucking in his breath, Kane bellowed out in perfect English, his voice rising into an almost hysterical shriek: "He said, 'beam me up', Mr. Scott!"

Again, nothing happened. All Klingon eyes locked on his. Gone was the dreamy placid expressions, replaced now with murderous glares as recognition dawned on them that an imposter was among them, most likely a human Federation one at that. Kane's heart was in his throat and tremors ran up and down his legs. _This is death, this is death,_ his mind kept repeating as his body tried to melt into the wall behind him. He watched helplessly as the group moved seemingly as one towards him. Not another step was taken however before a familiar hum filled the room and, as Kane watched, nearly weeping with joy, the group of five dematerialized into a swirling mass of multiple coloured atoms.

Alone, Kane's legs gave out and he collapsed on the floor. Knowing if he left himself there for even a few more seconds he would never get up, Kane rolled to his knees then hoisted himself to his feet. Stumbling out the door into, thankfully, an empty corridor he headed for his next task, the ships engine room. Stopped. _No, it was this way. _Turning around, he stopped again, shaking his head, desperate to clear the mist from his mind. He started forward, more sure of himself, and hearing voices behind him, slipped around the corridor wall and disappeared into the bowels of the Klingon cruiser.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

On the bridge of the Enterprise, Kirk motioned to Uhura to put the waiting call through. He had held off Janus as long as feasible, needing the time to follow the plan through in his mind, look for holes, weaknesses. Ultimately he found too many and as so often had occurred in the past, had to trust himself to deal with them when the time came. _Maybe right now_, Kirk thought, as the first big hurdle was upon him.

"Kirk here."

"Captain…I hardly know where to begin." The Valreation sounded bemused.

"Telling me our debt is repayed and you are releasing my ship would be a good start, Commander."

"Ah yes, the debt repayment. Five bodies requested. Five received."

The Valreation stopped talking, time stood still for Kirk. _Here it comes._ Kane had done his part. Five angry, confused Klingons beamed aboard the Enterprise. All of them had to be stunned by security to enable the change of uniform. Beamed down to the planet surface, barely beating the deadline. Kirk knew the change of uniform would fool no one, but perhaps it would be enough for the Valreations to play along.

"You can imagine Captain our consternation when we received your…shipment. In fact, I had to personally intervene with my superiors and remind them that you had indeed, technically fulfilled your end of the agreement."

"I am grateful, Commander."

"It is done, Captain, my intersection on your behalf was performed more in the spirit of expediting this whole affair. To that end a problem arose with the Klingons."

Kirk leaned forward in his seat.

"We received a call from them requesting an extension on their deadline. I won't go into details but it was extraordinary, a curious mix of expletives and venom and accusations followed by an uncharacteristic display of deference. It was put forth by our leader that you, Captain, should be the arbitrator of their fate."

Kirk froze. Was Janus suggesting that he was to be given the decision over the Klingon vessel? Was it that easy? _Why certainly, Janus, please annihilate the Klingon vessel and send us on our way. _

Kane! He hadn't signaled for retrieval yet but Kirk calculated coldly that his secondary mission was now redundant. One man, when the fate of his ship hung in the balance.

"It is of no matter," Janus continued. "In the end, it was decided to grant the Klingons an extension and they have now also fulfilled their agreement. I trust this sits well with you, Captain, as they did break the rules?"

Kirk sat back in his chair, ashamed at the relief spilling over him as he realized the decision was taken out of his hands.

"I have no objections," he said quietly.

"Excellent. I am relieved the situation has been resolved _fairly_."

Kirk could not help but catch the emphasis Janus placed on his last word. He seemed to be enjoying this.

"Just one more matter to discuss before I leave you, Captain."

Kirk sat up straight, detecting an undertone in the Valreation's voice that set his nerves on edge.

"Yes, Commander?"

"As you are aware that in addition to Valreation citizens perishing through your actions we have also lost valuable property. One ship to be exact. It is of no concern to us from whom the repayment originates. We leave it to yourself and the Klingons to decide. Neither ship will be permitted to leave the system until the outcome is determined."

Kirk left his chair, listening intently to Janus, and placed his hand on Sulu's shoulder, beckoning him to be ready.

"I fear for your sake however, Captain - our sensors indicate your ship is operating on impulse power only…that the conclusion is...forgone. Thank you in advance. Goodbye, Captain."

Kirk felt it immediately, subtle, but it was unmistakable. Something there, that was now gone. Instinctively, he knew the ship was his again.

"Hard astern, Mr. Sulu," he barked. "Mr. Chekov, lock on and fire all phasers."

Kirk staggered back to his chair as Sulu brought the Enterprise around in a tight curve, turning away the exposed side, facing the Klingons with the remaining shields available to her.

"Klingon cruiser advancing," Spock called out from his station.

"Full reverse, Mr. Sulu." Kirk responded. The bridged doors slid open and McCoy entered.

"We're moving," he said to no one in particular.

Immediately, the Enterprise shook, absorbing a full phaser barrage, sending the doctor careening into a nearby railing.

"Shields down to 10%," Spock said. "Another full strike would be problematic, Captain."

Kirk frantically stabbed his communication pad.

"Scotty, what's the status on Kane?"

"He signaled in almost two minutes ago Captain," Scott responded, obviously flustered.

Kirk's heart skipped, momentarily elated, but then...

"I was just going to call you, Captain. I've been trying to bring him in but I can't lock onto his signal."

Kirk could hear in the background Scott's hands flying over the controls. Scott hated more than anyone losing a crewmember, especially when it involved the transporter.

"All systems check out...the problem has to be coming from the Klingon ship."

He was exasperated but Kirk knew he would never give up. "Keep at it. Scotty, let me know immediately. Kirk out." He turned to Spock. "On my signal, Mr. Spock."

Spock appeared to hesitate slightly. "Understood, Captain."

McCoy, still clinging onto the railing, watched the interplay between the two and quickly realized the significance of the exchange. He released his grip on the railing and, pointing a warning finger at Spock, advanced towards Kirk.

"Jim, were you not listening to Scotty? He's still on board the Klingon ship!"

Kirk turned to him. "Bones, I..."

"Dr. McCoy!"

It was Spock raising his voice from his station. McCoy wheeled towards him, foreseeing what Spock was going to say, and ready to launch on him. Spock continued, his voice softer now.

"Dr. McCoy is correct, Captain."

McCoy involuntarily stood back a step and nearly stumbled on the bridge steps.

"There is still time, Captain. Ensign Kane has proved to be a resourceful crew member."

"Time, Spock? You said yourself another strike would—"

"Be problematic, yes sir," Spock interrupted. "Not fatal."

"Spock, I don't have—"

"Captain," Uhura cut into the exchange, "the Klingons are hailing us." She paused. "Commander Sartok requests a visual."

Kirk turned away from Spock, puzzled by his contradictory behavior. Never knew the first officer to jeopardize the ship and its entire crew over the fate of one individual. What was Kane to him? What was he to the ship, or myself for that matter? A thought began forming in him that was quickly pushed aside as Uhura spoke up urgently.

"He is not waiting patiently, Captain."

Time, Spock spoke of. An opportunity perhaps.

"Hold your fire, Mr. Chekov. Continue reverse momentum, Mr. Sulu."

"Aye, sir." came the replies in unison.

"Put it through, Lieutenant."

All eyes on the bridge turned to the forward screen as the bridge of the Klingon cruiser clarified. Kirk focused on Sartok. His body language appeared relaxed. Sitting back in his command chair, he affected a manner of ease and confidence. _He thinks he's in control right now_, Kirk thought. Then he noticed the Commander's outfit. Missing was the standard battle garb of a Klingon commander, replaced now by a ceremonial uniform Kirk had only seen twice in his life. Usually reserved for the signing of interstellar treatise or diplomatic occasions. Kirk knew that Klingon commanders were always reluctant to shed their favoured battle uniforms.

"I am flattered, Commander," Kirk spoke first. "You do me honour by your choice of dress."

"In part, Captain," Sartok replied. "I do acknowledge the role you have played in the years leading up to this rather momentous occasion. The Enterprise has been a prize long sought after by my people. Now in a few moments, it culminates into a glorious finale. With you in the captain's chair only adding to its glory."

The Klingon paused and looked down, appraising his outfit. "I thought it appropriate since I am sure this scene will be studied and recreated countless times at the Klingon Academy."

_Perhaps_, Kirk thought, _but hopefully not for the reason you think. _Kirk kept silent, content to let the Klingon ramble on.

"Now business, Captain. I fail to grasp what your little stunt of kidnapping my crewmembers accomplished for you. Here you sit in full range of my ship's armament, soon to be obliterated. What have you gained? Did losing five crew members mean that much to you?"

"Did yours mean so little to you?" Kirk retorted quickly.

Sartok gave the Klingon equivalent of a shrug and didn't answer. Obviously bored with this line of questioning he changed the topic. "We surmised the kidnapping could only be accomplished with the aid of an intruder. It wasn't until we reviewed our onboard computer files that we detected the anomaly. Your transport engineer is to be congratulated - a masterful job of hiding the signal."

Kirk nodded, accepting the praise on Mr. Scott's behalf.

"Be assured, Captain, we have adjusted our security. Your spy, unless he can fly through space, will not be leaving this ship."

Kirk nodded. "From what you indicate as our coming fate, then I would say he is the lucky one, Commander."

Sartok paused, considering the statement. "Ah...not so, Captain. It was my hope the spy would be present at our meeting here. I intended to personally gut him in front of you and let him bear witness to the destruction of the Enterprise before the last of his intestines finished spilling onto the deck."

Kirk rose from his chair, enraged, any hint of the pretend civility he had previously shown the Klingon vanished from his demeanor.

"Part of your 'glorious finale', Commander?" Kirk raged, "Study material for your young academy students?"His voice dripped with an ominous sarcasm.

Sartok remained seated, his composure unaltered. "Why yes, of course, Captain."

"Commander!"

A voice came though off screen on the Klingon bridge.

"Section seven reports an escape pod has just been launched."

Sartok absorbed this news for a moment.

"Malfunction?"

"No sir, sensors indicate it is manned." A slight pause then, "One occupant –human, sir."

Kirk regained his seat, the surge of emotion running through him quelling his anger. Sartok was speaking again. "Well, Captain, again my congratulations, elusive _and _resourceful also. Torok, lock phasers onto the pod."

Kirk responded. "Mr. Chekov, lock phasers onto the Klingon signal, initiate intercept on your mark."

Sartok stared intently though the screen directly at Kirk, anger for the first time now showing in his eyes.

"You prefer I deal with you first, Kirk? Torok, lock phasers onto Enterprise! Prepare to fire."

Kirk turned and began raising his arm towards Spock then halted as his eyes met the Vulcans. Spock gave his head a shake, subtle but the meaning was clear to Kirk. Too soon, he was saying. If Kane had performed his job correctly, when Spock activated the signal, the fusion bomb onboard the Klingon ship would ignite and obliterate the cruiser, sending a blast exploding in all directions across the galaxy. With its remaining shields, the Enterprise should be able to withstand it. Not so for an unshielded escape pod.

_More time you ask of me again, Spock?_ Kirk thought. "Mr. Chekov, lock phasers onto the Klingon vessel. Fire at my command."

Kirk stood again and advanced two steps toward the screen, facing the Klingon commander directly, standing at near attention.

"Commander Sartok, you are charged with the premeditated attack on Federation science station 4, resulting in the loss of Federation lives and property. How do you plead?"

The Klingon Commander shared bemused glances with his bridge crew then turned to Kirk.

"Considering the number of Klingon lives lost through Federation treachery, I am tempted to say innocent, Captain, but I will gladly plead guilty on all charges."

Kirk nodded. "It is encumbered upon me then to convict and pass sentence. Death."

Sartok slowly rose from his chair and also advanced towards the screen facing Kirk. The earlier look of bemusement long gone, anger vibrated through him. He appeared to be trying to hold his anger in check, but his voice came out strained.

"A little overconfident under the circumstances, aren't you, Captain?"

Kirk quickly turned to Spock who gave an affirmative nod. He turned back to Sartok. "Actually no, Commander, but an interesting choice of words. I believe it may well be the theme your future warriors will be studying soon about our encounter. Goodbye, Commander."

"Bah!" The Klingon spat out, giving a dismissive wave of his hand. "I am done with you Kirk – Torok, fire—"

The command was never finished as a moment before, Kirk had raised his hand in signal to Spock.

The space in front in front of the Enterprise erupted into a blinding flash, followed by an eerie moment of stillness, shattered by the aftershock that rippled over the Enterprise. The ship was sent reeling into a backwards trajectory, the blast spinning it in circles as it moved upwards to a warp two velocity. Kirk regained his equilibrium and moved swiftly over to assist McCoy who had been unceremoniously flung over the railing.

"Reports," Kirk called out as he hoisted McCoy to his feet.

"Speed at warp one and decreasing Captain," Sulu called out.

"Shields at three percent but holding," Chekov replied.

"All stations report no significant damage or casualties Captain," Uhura reported.

"Mr. Spock?" Kirk turned to his first officer, whose face was buried in his viewing screen. Kirk knew he didn't have to ask Spock what he was asking for.

No answer.

"Mr. Spock?"

"One moment, Captain, the fallout is interfering with the sensors, making it...I have it." Once more Spock remained silent.

"Mr. Spock?"

To Kirk this was unbearable. _Never have I felt this way he thought, over one crewmember...no,_ he reasoned, _not just a crewmember - someone much different_. Kirk searched inside himself for the answer.

Spock looked up briefly from his screen.

"The pod itself is undamaged, Captain."

Kirk nodded and looked into McCoy's face, acknowledging the reassuring gaze the doctor was directing towards him. Spock returned his face back to his screen. Without looking up his voice broke the silence on the bridge. "Occupant registers as alive." Spock looked up towards Kirk. "And by all accounts appears unharmed."

McCoy, grinning, gripped Kirk with both arms and appeared ready to hug him. Kirk gave McCoy a gentle pat on the arm and smiled, moving towards his chair. He missed a step, stumbled slightly and righting himself, sank into his chair. He started to issue a command but quickly halted, not trusting his voice. He performed a small inner cough and tried again. This time his voice carried strong and loud across the bridge.

"In that case, Mr. Chekov, would you please plot an intercept course to the Klingon escape pod. I would very much like to speak to my...son."

To his credit, Chekov didn't miss a beat. "Aye aye, Captain."

THE END


End file.
